Stasis
by Orion-x
Summary: "Okita-kun, missionary is not an acceptable position in baseball." Working undercover in a high school should be easy right? No bloodbaths and no dangerous work... Obviously whoever said that purposely left out menstruation and hormonal teenage girls. Shamelessly AU, 3Z-verse. Growing pains. OkiKagu
1. Karma is a xxxxx

_-Insert annoyingly long A/N-_

_Yeah I know, you just want to read._

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**Chapter 1****  
****Karma is a bitch**

"You're dismissed."

Those words of liberation echoed around my brain like one of those annoyingly uplifting electro-pop songs that wormed their way into your brain after been repetitiously propagandised through all forms of media. Yet unlike the artificial energy those songs were to fill you with, I was genuinely elated for a few reasons.

My internal happiness tho, did not make it to my face as half of my attention was devoted to the shocking pink bubble protruding from my mouth that was slowly increasing in diameter. As my bubble grew in size I was amused to notice a vein maturing simultaneously above my vice commander's twitching left eye.

"There may be a-"

_POP_

My watermelon flavoured bubble had dutifully exploded in the middle of his sentence awarding me with a dark scowl on my commander's face.

"Ah sorry..." I deadpanned before vacuuming the splatter of gum back into my mouth and prepared the birth of my second creation. This time I made sure to chew as noisily as possible, keeping my eyes on his temple. The vein was beginning to reach a dangerous size and for a moment, had I not coveted the vice commander position, the thought of warning Hijikata about the hazards of high blood pressure had crossed my mind.

I bit back a smile as he exhaled sharply; clearly hoping the air leaving his body would carry away a fraction the building frustration.

"-may be a chan-" he tried to pick up from where he had left off, but did not get far.

_POP_

I left out the apology this time but busied myself with examining the various scrolls of calligraphy draped all over his office, flattering around lightly in the balmy spring breeze. Perspiration beaded on his forehead as another vein joined the first one. Sometimes, it was almost too easy...

"a chance-"

_POP_

"that-"

_POP_

"y-"

_POP_

He opened his mouth and before the words could even tumble out of his orifice in a pile of messy disjointed syllables, I popped my gum again in a sharp irritating snap of air.

"HOW CAN YOU EVEN DO IT THAT FAST?" Hijikata barked at me in a spectacular explosion of temper that would usually encourage new recruits to cower in fear and spontaneously evacuate their bowels. After growing up with this man though, I may have just acquired enough insolence and indifference to sew a set of armour rendering myself immune to his threats.

Casually I pulled out my phone and eyed the time warily. Keeping the tone of my voice even and relaxed I reminded my vice commander just how much of his lunch time he had left to burn on me and not the yakisoba bread sitting innocently on his desk.

Clearly he was hoping to chain me down by issuing me with a warning that I might be called in for duty during my well deserved holiday. And clearly there was no way in hell I would willingly subjugate myself to this without a fight.

"You should eat," I suggested against an eerily serene backdrop of breezy curtains and a ticking clock.

Responding aptly to my prompt, he reached for his bottle of Mayorin mayonnaise also occupying his table with equal innocence.

"Sougo, there's a chance-" he started as he was uncapping his mayo.

Although this time, he had stopped on his own accord to watch me throw away an empty Tabasco sauce bottle into his newly prepared trashcan which landed with an almost too pleasant clang. A moment of brief silence followed as I pictured the imaginary hourglass doing flip flops above his head against a background of the words _loading_.

"That was a Tabasco sauce bottle wasn't it?" he asked slowly, clearly his brain was still trying to grasp the situation. Okita Sougo. Had just _messed up _(highlight, underline, bold), a prank. "I thought this mayo looked a little too pink, you spiked it didn't you? You little shit,"

"You're so paranoid, that's just food colouring," I rolled my eyes, hiding my smile as he called me out. Or so he_ thought_ he did.

"Bullshit," he smirked patronisingly against my poker face, "don't be a sore loser, I caught you this time!" Dramatically he lobbed the bottle of mayo across the room, dunking it perfectly in the bin before removing the wrapping from his bread. His eyes were trained on me the whole time along with his exaggerated smile, bloated with pride on his rare case of short-lived triumph.

Doing my hardest to play my part, I feigned ignorance which can best be translated to doing 'the loser's sulk' in this situation before turning my attention to my phone and hastily penning a text, occasionally glancing up to peer at his face, only to find it frozen in glee with a sandwich halfway to his mouth. Obviously he wanted to hand me free tickets to his victory show and 'torment' me as he savoured his conquest.

Being in a truly generous mood today, who was I to waste my front row tickets?

I shot him a glare as I snapped my phone shut loudly enough to mimic some semblance of irk. _Feign weakness._

"Are you going to eat that thing?" I asked him, making sure I laced my words with a measured ounce of irritation similar to a party magician's when they get called out by sticky, snot-filled little brats at their peer's birthday gathering.

"Of course, I just want to make sure you are watching as I consume this perfectly safe, delicious and Tabasco free yakisoba bread."

At this point in time, if I really was a loser I would have thrown my sidearm katana at his head or snatched his lunch away and eaten it myself, but I was biding my time. Much like a child waiting for the clock to strike 12 on Christmas Eve so they can meet the unfortunate fat man that goes chimney diving into their house... while armed with a baseball bat.

"Oooo... it's SO good," Hijikata gushed after the first bite. "It's like a rollercoaster of tastes."

"Uh huh," I folded my arms and waited patiently for him to continue, my stomach let out a convenient growl at this point making him grin ever harder.

"A perfect blend of textures."

"...if you smile any wider your face might crack," I warned him blankly.

"A subtle hint of spice..." he paused in the midst of becoming orally acquainted with the sandwich like a statue, barely wheezing out his next words, "It's like... it's like..." and collapsed into a glorious finale of coughs as a brilliant firework of rapidly expanding capillaries flowered all over his face.

Anyone experienced with spicy foods would be familiar with the fact that some spicy foods were honest and hit you like a fire truck driven by a blind rhino from the very first bite. While some were the sneaky kind of spicy, like newly appointed ex-girlfriends that kick you between the legs as soon as you turn around from your "peaceful" break up.

Seeing as my vice commander was now choking and looking more and more like he was distantly related to a tomato, I figured he was in no condition to finish his sentence. In a gracious act of helpfulness, I assembled one for him.

"... An inferno in your mouth?" I offered with a grin as my yakisoba bread figuratively kicked Hijikata in the groin for me. Now that he lacked the vocal abilities to even make a retort, I turned around and made my exit... but not before snapping a picture of my vice commander clawing at his throat with a face flushed with various violent emotions while on verge of dying at his desk.

"I told you the mayo was safe. I got the Tabasco baked into the bread, you should honestly listen to me when I tell you things Hijikata-san," I called over my shoulder above the racket he was making in a scramble to operate his water dispenser and the loud string of curses that filled the hallway as he broke the handle in his haste.

"Don't worry! I texted Yamazaki to bring you water already... he will be coming back from leave tomorrow."

Like I said, I was genuinely elated. Had I not an appearance to keep, I would have been skipping out of the head office of the Imperial Guard. Little did I know though, karma was always waiting around the corner for people like me, biding patiently for the most chaotic moment to come ambushing out of nowhere with a solid metal lance to joust me right off the high horse I was thoroughly enjoying riding. There was no better way to put things, but karma was a _bitch._

Armed with the knowledge that my vice commander would soon recover from his sandwich episode and issue a manhunt for my head to put me straight back to work in an effort to regain some form of equilibrium between us, I hurriedly cleared out basic necessities from my Tokyo apartment and made for the train station.

Best way to start off my break would be to make myself untraceable for duty and escaping to one of my apartments in Yokohama would give me the highest chance of success.

Settling myself into one of the cushy seats on the train, I let my mind wander over my work. The Imperial Guard took care of all matters related to the Royal Family. In truth, one could accurately term us as royal babysitters with duties ranging from protecting the shogun while he made public appearances to accompanying one of his distant cousins to a medical clinic to get haemorrhoids checked out because they lack the courage to do so without moral support; to petty duties like accompanying third aunty while she goes dress shopping and ensure prince snotball the fifth does not rub his royal nose drool all over other shop attendants and merchandise. Above all, ironically this division of the police department was the strictest in selection.

As the memory of threatening one obnoxious prince snotball in dark a changing stall with my sword to the point where he emptied his bladder crossed my mind, I fought back a smile. Incidentally, after that faithful day, he had become the best behaved and soft spoken snotball whenever I was around as an escort. Much to my chagrin it also meant his mother summoned me constantly, thanking the unknown voodoo magic I have to transform her little monster into something similar to the lowest tier of acceptable human existence. _I disliked little kids. _High school graduation was only three years behind me, but truth be told I have never looked back simply because _I disliked big kids ever more._

Somehow I had managed to entertain myself with a long enough trip down the memory lane to arrive at the stairwell of my apartment in the Izumi ward without scratching off the skin on my face in sheer boredom. Adjusting the strap of my duffle bag and long cloth satchel that housed my katana, I started the ascent to my apartment on the top floor of the five storey complex, faintly aware of some form of shouting going on in the peripherals of my hearing.

As I stood directly outside the door of my apartment, a certain ill feeling settled in the pit of my stomach when I realised the shouting was coming from inside my apartment. I frowned slightly as my left hand reached up automatically to cup my chin in the typical thinking pose. There was a possibility Yamazaki might be doing an emergency stakeout in my apartment and has once again lost his marbles to a diet consisting solely of anpan and milk.

Shuddering at the thought of a filthy apartment covered in empty anpan packets and soured milk cartons, I pursed my lips quickly before unlocking the door with my keys as well as deactivating the digital coded lock, planning on the most painful way to murder Yamazaki as I kicked open my own apartment door to avoid being spiked in the face with a wild anpan.

The silence that followed the audible bang of my apartment door hitting the wall was nothing short of awkward. Before me, in my very own apartment, on my couch, was a petrified guy no older than eighteen, clad in nothing but a loincloth frozen in mid scramble to get away from a girl around his age dressed in a crimson cheongsam who was also motionless. She had a fistful of his loincloth in her left hand and an umbrella in her right, judging by horrified look on the boy's face, she obviously had intentions of making him do the backwards tango with his ass and her umbrella before I unfortunately interrupted.

They stared at me like set of statues while I gazed at them with my usual neutral facial expression. Seconds ticked by on a clock in the background and neither of us made a move. Seeing as they had no intention to un-pause themselves like a jarred scene on a stuck DVD, I whipped out my phone and quickly snapped a picture.

"Well... don't mind me, by all means continue your nasty SM play, I'll start recording when you guys start moving again," I encouraged in monotony and made a small motion with my hand for them to continue.

The guy was the first to move. He let out a terrified squeal before making a dive that any stunt man would have been proud of over my coffee table, conveniently ditching his loincloth in the process to free himself from the girl's grip. Landing in a mess of arms and legs, he clambered across my wooden floor in full naked glory and literally attached himself to my right pant leg like a koala.

"SAVE MEEEEEEE!" He wailed in a storm of snot and tears whilst hugging my leg a bit too tightly before dissolving into a splutter of incomprehensible syllables, "Hijikatatoldmetowaithereandl ockthedoorthensheappearedand icouldn'tunlockthedoortogetoutsincei don'tknowthecode,"

Not even able to hide the obvious disgust I held towards the shower of bodily fluids raining from all the orifices on his face minus his ears from soaking themselves into the leg of my jeans, I turned my attention towards what I assumed to be the more intelligible one of the SM duo.

"Normally, the girl would be the one getting stripped. Do you even know how to make porn?" I asked the girl who was busy wiping her hands on her dress after dropping the filthy loincloth.

"I know enough to say that if you don't hand that loser over now he's going to piss all over your pants," she replied with a slight Chinese accent as she hopped off my couch while shouldering her umbrella and planting her left hand on her hips.

I eyed the quivering mess of limbs still wrapped around my right leg darkly, irritation starting to spark as trouble loomed its ugly head over the horizon of my holiday, "You have five seconds give me a reason on why I shouldn't punt you over to that ogre," Before he could even open his mouth I started to count.

FIVE

FOUR

THREE

TWO

"I- I- I'm Tokugawa-" Instinctively I dropped my duffle bag on the ground and pried him off my leg roughly with my sheathed katana before he even made it to the first name. Punting him out into the hall, I kicked the door shut behind me, ignoring the furious banging that followed as he demanded to be let back in. Tokugawa, was the last name of the royal family and the absolute last name on earth I wanted to have anything to do with right now.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? MY CLOTHES ARE STILL IN THERE!" the royal pain in the ass yelled.

"If you want to keep your anal virginity you better start running, in three minutes I'm going to let this she-rapist out of here," I called back.

"But- but, YOU'RE THE FUCKING POLICE," he shouted angrily while fisting at my door.

"Yeah that's another reason why you should run now while you have the chance to, before I change my mind and arrests you for indecent exposure," I retorted and opened my door just wide enough for me to screech into the hall in the girliest voice I could master, "There's a hentai streaker running in the halls! Someone get security!" The last I saw of him were a pair of saucer wide eyes rimmed with tears, dancing with a tempest of emotions ranging from shock to betrayal to down right fear staring defiantly at me.

_"Oh no you wouldn't do this to me!" _his eyes screamed at me.

_"If I had 100 opportunities to do this, I'd do it 101 times,,"_ I glared back at him before letting out another shriek for good measure. "KYAAAAAA~ somebody!"

"F-f- fuck you man!" he flipped me the bird before making for the stairs, shielding what he can of his exposed body with his hands as the other apartment doors started opening in response to the ruckus. Finally closing my own apartment door, I turned to the girl only to find her sporting the same look Hijikata had just this morning, only with more veins and less mayonnaise.

"Oi asshole, that's my mark you just set free," she accused as the shadow of a storm started brewing across her pale face.

"You should be thanking me for saving you from the path of rape," I retorted as I slipped off the cloth casing that housed my battle ready katana. Maybe it was something in the setting orange sun that played funny tricks with the lighting, but a slightly lethal glint you should not find in a normal teenage girl's eyes made me seek the comfort of cold steel in my hands.

"I am a lady," she snapped, "and ladies don't rape people you shitdick."

"Probably want to wash your mouth out with soap first, ladies are too refined to have verbal diarrhea like you," I smiled condescendingly.

"Big words for a dog that just abandoned his master," her blue eyes clashed threateningly against my own wine coloured orbs, "So it is true that the police are just a bunch of no good tax robbers!"

"Equally big words for a twerp that doesn't even pay tax yet," I felt compelled to match her gaze with equal intensity,

"You're not my target so get out of my way."

"But you've been naughty enough to earn yourself 30 minutes in the quiet corner. I can't let you out until time is up."

"If you don't move, I'm going to shove this umbrella up your ass."

"That's hot." I almost laughed when her serious expression faltered and a blush that could almost be cute made its way onto her face. I used almost here because normal girls usually do not make threats about inserting objects into a boy's rectal region like she was talking about her favourite brand of makeup.

I watched her fidget and could literally hear the cogs ticking in her head as she flailed about trying to make a reply inside the golden time limit of a witty retort. I took the plastic pineapple now sailing at my head as her defeat.

Snatching the offending fruit out of the air, I kept my eyes on hers, marvelling at her loss of composure.

"I should warn you, I'm not like your typical policeman. I'm not averse to beating children just to set them straight," I flicked the handle of my sword lightly with my thumb just so she could catch a glimpse of how real and how sharp the blade was.

"Keep your lolicon SM fetishes to yourself, you're not even going to last three minutes," she rolled her eyes, but her blush lingered while an armada of plastic fruits cannonballed towards me because she decided the best way to start off a fight in a cramped Yokohama apartment was by throwing a plate of fake fruit at your opponent.

I baseball batted the offending plate back at her as she squealed to get out of the way. Catching her off guard instantly I knocked her into a wall by pushing her stomach region with a sharp stab from the sheathed end of my sword. Instantly I followed up by pinning her to the wall by trapping her neck with my katana, applying just enough pressure on her throat to make it hard to breathe.

"I don't even need three minutes for a brat like you," I breathed against her ear.

"Don't... get so..." she struggled to form the words with the little air she was allowed, I could see the fury in her eyes just as she tore her gaze from mine to the window ledge right next to her, "... FUCKING COCKY," with a snarl she grabbed a dying cactus off the shelf and stabbed me in the sword hand, served me right for never watering that damned thing.

The cactus may be dead, but the dried up thorns were sturdy as fuck. Unbeknownst to most people, sadists were sadists because they disliked feeling pain. The sensation of being stabbed in the hand short-circuited my brain for just a split second and I lost my focus which costed me to almost drop my sword. A small mistake, but it was enough of a window for the vicious little brat to catch a breath of air and to push me backwards. Unfortunately for her, I lost my balance and tumbled over my couch and her skull shattering swing with her umbrella missed my head by a fraction.

While I recovered my balance against the saggy messy of cushions and untangled my hand from the disgusting pile of loincloth, I heard a crash. Looking up quickly, the little vixen had snagged a chair and bashed it against the glass sliding door that separated my living room to my balcony. Shattered glass littered the ground along with pieces of splintered wood from my now broken chair.

"Probably shouldn't buy all your shit from Ikea," she mused at the chair before dropping the smashed pieces.

"They make decent furniture if you aren't planning on waging a domestic war everyday," I glared back at her from my position on the couch.

"I'm leaving," she declared as she turned around to make her way out of my now glassless sliding door. The headache of having to call someone in to fix this was already starting to pulsate in my brain.

On top of all this, I was _not_ satisfied with the way things turned. Picking up a strategically scattered plastic apple, I sat up and threw the fruit as hard as I could and revelled in the audible _clog_ as it smacked the back of her head. Surprisingly her arm snaked around and caught the fruit before it could fall to the ground and she whipped around sharply to face me, fanning open her umbrella to block out the setting sun behind her figure.

"If I see you again, I'm going to blow open your stupid head," she glowered at me at what was meant to be a threatening display of a worthy rival... had she not taken a bite out of the ultra realistic plastic apple.

"Didn't your mum teach you not to eat things that strangers give you?" I teased as I watched her splutter and cough up bits of paint and foamy plastic, not even feeling very angry at the fact that I would later be cleaning up the bits of spit and debris at the risk of catching some sort of foreign disease off her.

Her only response was to pause between her gagging and flip me the bird like her ex-SM partner did before hoisting herself over the ledge of my balcony and jumping off in what was meant to be a rendition of Mary Poppins. Sincerely, if she was stupid enough to jump off the fifth storey of a building, I hoped she died.

Exhaling sharply to blow my stray bangs out of my eyes, I grabbed a cushion at random and flopped back down onto the couch. Most people would be smoking up a storm by now, but since I did not indulge in cancer sticks, I popped a piece of gum into my mouth and started chewing thoughtfully as I started assessing the amount of cleaning I would be forced to do before I could deem my apartment as fit for living again.

Broken sliding door, overturned pot plants and dirt all over the floor, one pair of soiled loincloth, broken fruit plate, one contaminated plastic apple, dirty couch and cushion covers, broken chair, possibilities of unwanted bodily fluids everywhere, an infected pair of jeans I might have to chuck out, some clothes I might have to burn... I stopped counting and buried my face in the cushion with a loud groan.

"Well played karma, you're such a _bitch_."

* * *

**A/N - **Hi... considering you read everything til here, I would like to congratulate you on making it this far. I haven't actually written anything in over two years so I have no idea where my writing skills are at if I can even write anymore.

Only thing I know at the moment is, I feel like picking up writing again and I love OkiKagu :D They are so fun to write together.

Please drop me a review if you enjoyed the fic or if there are any mistakes or if you have anything you want to share with me - comments, criticisms, want me to read your fic etc I'll do my best to respond and update.

AND yes... I'm shamelessly inexperienced with first person, thought I'd attempt it for a change. Don't kill me ;A;

- Orion


	2. Rise of the Black King

_A/N goes at the bottom... is anyone even reading this? _**  
**

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**Chapter 2  
Rise of the Black King**

I woke up to the smell of bacon and the sound of fat sizzling away on a frying pan. Rubbing my eyes blearily I tried to shake the last recesses of sleep from my foggy mind before kicking off the unfamiliar bed covers. I wrinkled my nose at the heavy scent of mothballs wafting off my body and did a mental reminder to get those sheets aired out first before I slept in them again. Eyeing the time on my phone, I frowned. _Unless I had acquired a ghostly butler without realising… Who the fuck is cooking breakfast at 7am? _

Grabbing my sword from next to my nightstand, I stumbled out of the dark haven that was my room and made my way to my joint living room/kitchen. Images and scenes from various movies danced around in my head... A lonely cop, living by himself, waking up to a villain cooking him breakfast and getting served with a bullet to the heart. Clichéd but classic.

Squinting from the doorway to the hall into the kitchen, I saw an unfamiliar blonde with a head of curly hair expertly frying bacon and eggs at the stove. If it had been some other time after 12pm, I would have kissed the stranger in thanks for cooking, but seeing as they were interrupting my much needed sleep, a peevish attitude was all I could charitably manage.

"Oi, who the fuck are you supposed to be?" I asked grouchily above the sound of their cooking and should I also add, severely off-key humming, highly irritated to be awoken so early in the morning on the first day of my break.

The blonde turned 'her' head towards me with a ten thousand watt smile, completely ignoring my foul mood, "Good morning darling! Hurry up and go take a shower so you can change into your new uniform! Don't want to be late for your first day of school!"

"..." Seeing as I did not move or reply, the blonde who was role-playing what I could only assume as _a _mother continued in 'her' obviously falsetto voice.

"Baby don't walk around in just your boxers in the morning, you might catch a cold!" 'she' cooed in a very scary version of motherly affection that sent the North Pole racing down my spine, if I was anyone else other than myself, I was sure my balls would have abandoned my body.

My left eye twitched at the visual horror before me. Honestly I would have gladly taken a bullet to the heart if I had that choice.

"Yamazaki... what the fuck?" I asked flatly before drawing my sword.

"Nononononononononono," the terrified spy instantly unarmed himself by dropping the frying pan and started waving his hands around like a dying seal, "the vice commander aske- OH fuckfuckFUCKKK,"

Had he not been lucky enough to drop a red hot frying pan onto his foot, I would have served him my own form of punishment. Seeing as he was in enough pain and I was starting to grow nauseous watching a tranny flail around my apartment smelling both of bacon and mothballs, I sheathed my katana and turned around.

"Clean yourself up before I get out of the shower or I'm going to make sure you take the train back to Tokyo naked and live off nothing but anpans for the rest of your life," I called behind me before escaping into the bathroom.

Ten minutes later I was once again standing in my own kitchen with a towel over my wet hair, wearing a pair of black school pants, a pressed white shirt and a beige coloured jumper. Taking a generous swig from a carton of orange juice, I turned over a new load of bacon trusting Yamazaki to have washed the frying pan. I was _not _going to eat Yamazaki's foot bacon.

"Captain, you are supposed to wear your blazer when you are walking to and from school," Yamazaki chastised from the square dining table, now wigless and dressed in his normal work clothes, thumbing his way quickly through a dossier.

I glared at him and forked a piece of bacon into my mouth straight from the pan, hissing slightly as the hot meat burnt my tongue, "So? What's the mayoholic putting me up to this time?" I asked anyway for the sake of conversation even though I had a very decent idea already.

I must have proven to be an easier conquest than Yamazaki had anticipated for he instantly stopped nagging me about my appearance and started pulling out pages of classified information and profile printouts. I frowned to myself as he began sorting out the paperwork. _I should probably take back all my apartment keys off him for future reference. _

As soon as he was ready, he cleared his throat. "Tokugawa Tarou Tarou is the third son of the Shogun's uncle's brother's illegitimate child raised by his mother. Apparently lately he's been getting mixed up with the wrong crowd and may be in danger. Your objective is to make sure he is kept out of danger in his final year of high school-"

He stopped as I started choking on my orange juice and eyed me curiously.

"Captain?"

"His final year of high school? You mean I have to babysit this little piece of shit for the WHOLE year?" I asked, just in case there was a microscopic chance that I have been wrongly assigned or if the residual earwax in my ear canals were playing cruel tricks on me.

"Well..." I could see Yamazaki fumbling and drying up under my very intense death glare while Hijikata's metaphysical heinous laughter filled my brains, "it's not reeeeally a year if you take into account of the holidays. Hijikata-san said to think of it as a vacation where you'll be doing minimal amounts of work!"

"I'll be waking up even earlier than I usually do for normal work," I shot back before crossing my arms defiantly.

"You can sleep early since you don't have to study! Besides, there'll be heaps of pretty high school girls!" he was trying so hard to be positive.

"That's illegal."

"No paperwork!"

"There'll be homework."

"No bloodbaths or dangerous work!"

"Menstruation and hormonal teenage girls."

"Knee high socks!"

"Not my fetish and like I said it's illegal."

"Captain please don't decline this, my life is on the line with the vice commander," Yamazaki pleaded with a defeated sigh as he prepared to fold himself into a human origami in order to beg for my service. Clearly he should know I do not care for his life by now. "If you are really mad, there's a secondary objective for you to bust up the crowd Tokugawa is mixed up with," he added hopefully.

I considered his words while munching on my last piece of bacon thoughtfully trying to find a loophole. "Yamazaki, if I just uproot the bad crowd he's in with and make sure there's no way he'll die before high school ends, can I terminate this mission early?"

"I- I guess?" he answered uncertainly, "Anyways, you'll be posing as the American exchange student Okita Souichirou, joining the class-"

I looked at him as if he had grown a pair of testicles on his chin, "Why American?!"

"Apparently that's where you spent your last year of high school according to the vice commander," Yamazaki shrugged as he continued to brief me in a drone that I had tuned out.

That stupid mayo freak must have spoken to my sister within the last 24 hours to have found that out. Frowning, I started to concoct another scandal I will be telling her about over Skype in an attempt to defame him. _How dare he still talk to her after returning to Japan like that and leaving her all alone in America? _

"Captain? Captain!" Yamazaki was waving his hands over my face to snap me out of my reverie. Kind as this gesture was, it also placed him within punching vicinity. In a vain attempt to ease my anger, I threw my towel at his face vaguely noting I should have stabbed him with my sword by now.

"I'm going to be late, you better drive me." I griped as I snatched up my school bag, "And make sure you clean up this mess before you head back to Tokyo or I will personally recommend you to the third aunty to replace me in my absence."

I was definitely being too nice.

* * *

In my very own biased opinion, high school was just a battleground of popularity, self-esteem, peer pressure and growing pains. If you only wished to scrape by in high school, you do your best to melt into the background scenery or perhaps seek out souls in a similar clique and cling to them as a way to identify yourself. Numbers meant power and power meant security from potential downgrades of self-worth and victimisation.

Play your cards right in this cutthroat setting however and you will basically _win_ the game and _succeed_ at high school instead passing through as another nameless individual. The recipe for high school conquest was simple but sordid as I discovered throughout the years. It followed one rule and one rule only. That was - do _not_ listen to your mother when she said "just be yourself" on your very first day of being a freshman or any occasions of preparing to integrate yourself into a pre-structured social hierarchy system.

Spoken as a naked albeit ugly fact, from as young as a child, the media has taught us to gravitate towards everything attractive or glamorous on the surface with no regards toward internal values such as morals or integrity. We were taught to believe that all gorgeous things were good without ever fully grasping the concept of _what is good_.

The complexity of morality and other formless aspects of the human nature did not surface until we finally make a blind walk into betrayal believing the good-looking cheerleader will see beyond our social status as a geek and agree to a date; or the homecoming king would ever throw a second glance at you peeking at him from behind the Anne Frank novel he will never be interested in reading.

Suddenly stereotypes would start springing up everywhere as people hurriedly try to identify themselves and hide behind a label in order to justify their very existence. Some find comfort in this identity while others loathed it and struggled to make another ascent up the social ladder every day.

Thus high school becomes a brutal theatre of war as you fight to deny yourself of you are while floundering to stay afloat in a sea of labels, trying so hard to contort yourself into new facade that would make you a _more popular _you.

For that very reason, those that have accepted the universal ugly truth of high school do much better than others. It did not matter _how much_ few people liked you, it mattered _how many _people liked you. It was a mere battle of quantity over quality, and to brave it all and come out on top I established that a person has to abandon their sense of self and become the personification of _charisma. _Be friends with anyone and everyone, but never let someone discover your true nature, discard your inherent sense of self and adopt a principle to _fake everything _in the most convincing manner possible.

For someone who rarely ventured into the responsibility of caring for others, I excelled naturally at this. Doing it all a second would only be too straightforward considering this time, it was nothing more than a game for me.

The end of my philosophical journey also took me to the end of my car ride, as I exited the smooth black vehicle used primarily for escorting high priority figures, I finally realised how I was going to entertain myself for the rest of the year. Smirking inwardly at the whispering and attention my unusual entrance was already garnering, I decided upon my sadistic ambition. I was going to become the _king _and _rule_ this school.

My crusade for domination was already looking like a piece of cake as I strolled through the gates of my lacklustre high school. Heads were turning as I moseyed through the sea of murmurs gaining some form of attention from everyone I passed.

"Hey you!"

I stopped in my tracks and tilted my head in the direction of the sound, watching with mild interest as a girl who was a good head shorter than me shoved her way through a cluster of giggling high school girls. She took a deep breath before marching towards me, each step echoing with forced authority her petite frame just was not ready to carry. Judging by her immaculate uniform, thick rimmed glasses and unstyled waterfall of black hair; she was probably an influential member of the student council.

"Yes?" I intoned as I regarded her coolly, my posture lax and my school bag slung over my shoulder.

"Where's your blazer?" she enquired while giving me a once over finally resting her average brown eyes against my dark red ones.

I gave a pause as I pretended to ponder, "I don't think I have one..."

"It's against school regulations to travel to and from school without a bla-" she started her recitation.

"Your hair is really pretty," I interjected expertly while reaching out gently for a lock of her long hair. Looking at the tresses in my hand appraisingly, I gave her one of my most charming smiles. "What's your name?"

She froze up and I observed with delight as every fibre in her body struggled to comprehend and compose some form of sensible response to this flirtatious, male attention.

"S-S-Sonohara Y-Yuriko." The girl finally managed to articulate, having been demoted from an imposing figure to a blushing teenage girl by nothing but a smile and the slight taboo of physical contact.

"Yuriko you say? That's a really pretty name! May I call you Yuriko-chan?" Cutting straight to the most intimate way I could address her, I smirked inwardly as the girl looked like she was on the verge of a facial haemorrhage. Deciding to deal the final blow, I gasped and dropped her hair quickly. "Oh god, I'm so sorry Yuriko-chan, I really shouldn't be touching you so casually, you see I've only just come back from America and everyone there is well..." I trailed off shyly while covering my mouth with my hand expertly diverting attention away from my inability to blush.

The girl looked like she was about to faint, "No! No it's fine! You...you can touch me whenever you like," she protested automatically, too busy racing through the flower fields of womanhood in her mind to pay attention to what she has just said in front of half the school.

As the horrifying reality slowly settled like the fog on her glasses though, she clutched her hands to her mouth in an action mimicking mine. Too bad spoken words were not something you could simply sweep under a carpet. Just like what has been seen cannot be unseen, it was just as hard to 'unhear' something. She looked up at me in trepidation as the world slowed around us. We both knew what was going to happen next - the collapse and restructure of her precious social standing as a member of the student council... many years of hard work and perseverance to be a perfect role model. It was all about to _change_. For someone that has been living that role for possibly her whole high school life, the very idea was _terrifying_.

The social tsunami hit us both, engulfing us in a tidal wave of comments more colourful than the spectrum of the rainbow. All around us people were whispering, judging, comparing, admiring, fangirling, nosebleeding, wondering, scrutinising, raging, screaming and gossiping. The hail of opinions showered down around us like a badly tuned primary school Christmas choir.

"Isn't that the Student Council President?"

"Did she just _say that?!_"

"What a _slut._"

"So she's one of _those_ kinds of girls huh?"

"I thought she was proper..."

"I know what I'll be thinking about tonight ;)"

"Another exchange student?"

"Oh my gosh he's from America!"

"Those two are so brazen!"

"He's so hot!"

"Which year is he in?"

"Have my babies!"

"That guy's a god!"

"Teach me!"

"Oh my god, touch _my_ hair!"

I watched impassively as the aftermath of the storm rippled about in a riot of assorted opinions. The unfortunate girl looked like she was about to drown in the sea of voices, absolutely unsure of how to deal with this sort of mixed attention. She reacted exactly like how I predicted she would and fled with an arm over her face, running blindly in what I assumed to be the direction of the bathroom, most likely to cry and reconcile with her sense of self.

Feeling no remorse whatsoever, I offered her a silent thanks as she became the first stepping stone to my ascent of this school's social food-chain As the last man standing in our impromptu display, I could safely assume, without overconfidence, that I was already more famous than half of the student body would ever be.

Just as I was preparing myself to soak up the last few moments of my precious victory, I felt a hand clasp firmly onto my shoulder. Arching my back to allow myself a glimpse of the overly friendly stranger, I met the familiar spectacled dead-fish gaze of a man standing in a formal shirt and pants combo underneath a white lab coat, sporting the most ridiculous silver perm I had ever witnessed.

"Oi oi Casanova-kun, take it easy with the charisma here. These young minds are highly impressionable. Last thing I need on a Wednesday morning is an insurrection of high school girls in heat."

"Ah… my bad," I shrugged as the man slung his hand over my shoulder fully invading my personal space but with no consequence. Now that he was in closer proximity, I heard him whisper just to me.

"And I am aware you are here to bodyguard a twerp, not to break hearts."

"Danna… you disappeared so long I never thought I'd find you at a high school posing as a teacher," I murmured back, genuinely surprised to find the mercenary now working as a figure of guidance.

"What can I say? I love knee high socks," the older man remarked casually as he popped a lollipop into his mouth.

Not being able to resist my sadistic instincts, I asked him with a dark smile, "Done anything illegal yet?"

"If I told you, you'd have to arrest me." He replied ambiguously. I could not discern whether he was been serious or not so I made myself a mental note to arrest him at the end of the school year just for good measure.

"Okita-kun, there's paperwork you need to fill out before you are properly enrolled, come with me to my office," Gintoki announced loudly. Deciding our little talk was extending a bit too long for a quiet scolding, the former White Demon wheeled us both around and proceeded to guide me towards the school building, nonchalantly informing the rest of the student body the show was over and to proceed with their normal pre-school activities.

Once safely behind the doors of his office, Gintoki slouched into his chair instantly and propped his feet onto his desk. "So how's your investigation going?" he questioned conversationally.

Finding no reason to keep him out of the loop, I settled myself into the much less comfortable looking chair opposite his desk and proceeded to tell him of the events from yesterday, hoping his position as a teacher in this school would allow me to glean some useful information off him.

"…and so I have that one loose end I'll probably need to tie up," I concluded my recount and idly turned my attention towards the school gates only to find the said 'loose end' from my story ambling through the school gates with her vivid head of orange hair and a her striking purple umbrella. Without even thinking, I found myself asking, "Danna… who is that girl?"

Following my line of sight, I observed with interest as his face darkened and he turned to me seriously. "That girl is the only girl in this school you shouldn't have anything to do with,"

Putting a lid over my own piquing interest, I managed my question in my least fascinated voice possible, "What's it to her?"

"On the surface, nothing," Gintoki shrugged and produced another lollipop from his seemingly endless lab coat pocket, popping the candy end of the stick into his mouth he continued, "Her brother however, is in deep with criminal organisation Harusame over in China. She seems to be trying very hard to live a new life in Japan on her own though."

"Not hard enough considering she's following directly in her brother's footsteps," I revealed flatly earning myself a raised eyebrow. "She's the loose end I mentioned."

"Ah… how complicated," he yawned as he scratched his hair lazily. "In that case you should probably try and make peace with her considering she's been trying to get clean and the only way for her to do that is to chop up the royal vegetable left in your care. It might even prove to be beneficial for you if you plan on uprooting the whole organisation to have her as an informant, provided you can guarantee her safety."

As I was just contemplating the suggestions he made and questioning myself on whether I wanted to take responsibility for not only one but _two _insufferable adolescents, Gintoki's voice knifed through my thoughts.

"Now, we have five minutes left. I have to talk to you about something very important." He said solemnly, holding onto a stack of papers. "Which club do you want to join?"

I narrowed my eyes and gazed seriously into his half lidded ones. "Do you honestly have to ask?" I intoned suspiciously.

"Well of course! I have to take into account of everyone's interests," he replied with a little too much enthusiasm, "We have swimming, baseball, calligraphy, art, photography, cooking, gardening, track, basketball, volleyball, soccer, foreign language, everything under the sun, even drama! The choice is yours,"

My left eye twitched, he had definitely left out the most obvious one on purpose. "Danna-"

"It's sensei now Okita-kun, we are at school."

"Alright, sensei. I want to join the ke-"

"Calligraphy you say!" he interrupted ardently and slapped an application form in front of me. Glaring at the form and back at him I pursed my lips.

"I don't want to be in the calligraphy club."

"Now, now it's good to try new things! There's many more here if calligraphy isn't to your liking." He ushered and dropped the pile of club application forms in front of me.

I thumbed through the stack of papers, a petulant expression slowly making its way onto my face. As I scowled accusingly at Gintoki for hiding the application form to the _one_ club I actually wanted to join, he shrugged and escaped to the window, busying himself with staring at the last trickle of students rushing through the gates.

Realising her was going to ignore me until I signed myself over to some random club I have no passion towards, I picked up a ballpoint pen from his desk and decided I was not going to bend easily to his whims. His reason for ousting me was irrelevant to my interests.

Scribbling my details quickly on a form, I passed the paper back to him just as the bell rang for class. Picking up my school bag I was already out the door when he realised I had made a farce of the baseball application form.

"Okita-kun, missionary is _not_ an acceptable position in baseball."

* * *

**A/N - **I apologise in advance for the lack of Kagura in this chapter, my original intention _was _for them to run into each again this chapter, but got sidetracked with writing about Sougo's sadistic personality and admittedly had a lot of fun. _Too much _fun even.

As this is told in Sougo's POV, I did take the opportunity to explore his personality a bit since my intention for this fic is to show a process of growth and change, so I need him to be a bit more varied in emotions and thought processes outside of just pure sadism. Bear with me, our lovely heroine will make a return next chapter. :)

A big thank you to everyone that read, reviewed, favourited and followed. Your support means the world to me. If you have the time, please shoot me a review or a PM, I love hearing your feedbacks.

Orion


	3. Eavesdroppers, Voyeurs & Stalkers

**Chapter 3 **

**Of Eavesdroppers, Voyeurs and Stalkers **

Trees were great. Their existence came with a whole set of useful properties such as providing shade from the sun, producing oxygen that was vital for human survival, others yield delicious fruit and most importantly, they bestow me with a hiding place from the vicious army of fangirls I have amassed.

Having finally grown bored of eating their bentos and complementing their makeup for the week, I came to realise the futility of my ambitions. Top of the food chain or not, I hardly believed I have the required amount of sanity to dwell in this setting for a year. The sooner I get out, the better.

I made a beeline towards a leafy companion as soon as the lunch bells rang. Pulling myself up into its branches dense with cherry blossom, I watched impassively as a group of female specimens rounded the corner of the school building, frantically searching for my presence in order to ravage my taste buds with their cooking.

"Ehhh! Where did Sou-sama go? He hasn't even tried my bento yet!"

Deciding I was sick of school life for the day, I pulled my sleeping mask over my face and made the decision to skip afternoon classes in favour of a nap in this tree. Like I said, trees were great. Before I was able to take a trip to the lands of the unconscious however, I was regrettably interrupted.

"Let's eat here today Kagura, it's a nice day to be outside," an unfamiliar voice cheerfully suggested.

I frowned to myself. _How about no, so I don't have to listen to your nauseating teenage love?_

"'Pachi, you know I hate the sun." The female of the two sulked. _See? Even the lady- wait... _

Recognising her voice instantly, I peeled a fraction of my sleeping mask away from my eyes just so I could take a peek at these two star crossed lovers uniting under my tree. Sure enough, there was Lady China, now clad in regular high school uniform standing sullenly next to her spectacled friend, her umbrella opened to shield her from the sun she seemed to hate so much.

I filed the name Kagura away in my brain for future references having no current intentions of addressing her as such.

"That's what trees are for! Aren't they great?" The boy said, enthusiastically patting _my_ tree before sitting himself down in the shade. I fought back a groan at his eagerness. This was _not _how you pick up girls.

"Not really... I'd rather go back to the gym storage room and nap on the gymnastics mats." The girl yawned drowsily but sat herself down besides the boy either way, shutting her umbrella with a loud snap.

"You do have some pretty dark circles under your eyes..." The boy agreed with her and trailed off at what I could only assume as a look that was sour enough to curdle milk. _Great job, tell her how horrible she looks. Every girl wants to hear that. _

"Hn."

"Are you...in trouble again?" The boy tried asking again in tentative concern as he pushed a beautifully prepared bento towards the girl. My ears perked in curiosity.

Two days ago, I held Yamazaki at knife point and politely "asked" for him to stay in Yokohama to assist me on my mission. The duties of tracking down the streaker had been taken over by Yamazaki entirely and I thought I could bury the matter.

Sadly, my inquisitiveness was now wholly provoked by this exchange. China's connection to this incident was still unclear to me, although if I were to make an educated guess, I would have assumed she was out to silence Tokugawa, however that does not explain why she was in trouble. I frowned to myself. Here I thought I could shirk my duties onto Yamazaki and another headache just _has_ to appear like an unwanted guest at a house warming.

Deciding I did not need a nap anymore, I propped my sleeping mask onto my head and added 'good for eavesdropping' hastily to the list of useful properties about trees before diverting my attention to the two young adults beneath me. I watched impassively as the girl picked at the food sluggishly without making a verbal reply. Finally she shrugged idly, strangely devoid of energy.

"You know, if things get tough, you can always come stay at-" the boy offered in order to fill in the growing awkward silence between them.

"NO." The girl snapped at him forcefully, then bit her lips realising how harsh she sounded, "I'm sorry 'Pachi, it's just that these people are dangerous, I don't want to drag you into all this unnecessarily, you're a good friend to me..." she trailed off and decided to stuff a sushi into her mouth to close the discussion.

"Kagura, it hurts me to see you struggle alone through this, let me help you!" the spectacled boy said with visible emotional pain on his face.

"You really want to help?" the girl asked as she shot him a sidelong glance, mouth still full of sushi.

The boy was literally glowing with energy. "Of course I do! Tell me what I can do for you and I promise I'll do my best!"

"Don't tell anyone I'm squatting in the gym," Kagura replied flatly, "and get me some tea, being outside is baking me dry."

I watched with obvious amusement as the boy deflated faster than a leaking balloon; nonetheless, he got up and firmly told her he will not tell anyone of her whereabouts before marching off for a vending machine.

As soon as the boy was out of earshot, the girl stood up.

"Didn't I say that the next time I see you I'll blow your head off?" she asked aloud before glaring straight at me in the tree. "How much did you hear?"

"Everything, even the part where he asked you which brand of condoms you liked the most," I jokingly said.

"Give it a rest you stupid sex fiend." She shot me what I assumed would be a withering look, it was hard to tell behind the foliage. "This time you even have the audacity to eavesdrop, you really are the worst."

Making sure she could not reach me to cause bodily harm from where she was relative to my position in the tree, I retorted, "Honestly China, I was here in the tree before you came, don't coin me in with your eavesdropping when you two lovebirds basically forced me into overhearing your entire conversation."

Her cheeks flamed. "We are not lovebirds, are you blind?" she protested heatedly.

"Hoh~ then you are even worse than I thought, spectacle boy here seems pretty smitten with you, how much longer are you planning to lead him on for?" I asked her with a teasing smile, shifting my position from lounging to sitting on the tree branch, staring down her in a Cheshire cat-esque fashion.

Her azure eyes were so intense when she glowered at me, for a moment I found myself lost in the pools of blue. Her words however, jolted me back to reality pretty easily. "I am _not_ leading him on! We are just friends. Leading on would be what you are doing to all these innocent teenage girls you sick lolicon. What are you even _doing_ here? Repeating high school because you failed?"

"I'm here looking for a streaking vegetable, provided you haven't sliced him up and made tempura out of him already. And honestly I wouldn't be in the Royal Guard if I failed high school," I replied lazily as her face darkened.

"You think I want to kill him?" she asked in incredulity much to my own surprise.

"You weren't?"

"I don't even want to waste my time with you." She looked insulted and began gathering up the bento box.

As she started to walk away, I quickly exited the tree and fell into step with her. It was rare for me to misjudge someone but her behaviour that day clearly indicated she had some intention of harming my quarry. Sadly it would also be my duty to find out so I could plan my next course of action. China here, was not making it any easier for me.

"If you weren't trying to kill him, what were you trying to do?" I asked inquisitively as I ghosted her steps.

"That's none of your concern."

"Sadly it is China, I am bound by civil duties to protect the good citizens of Japan, not sure about illegal immigrants though."

I must have hit a nerve because the next thing I knew, I was looking at the business end of her umbrella. One might claim umbrellas were harmless, but clutched between the delicate hands of this girl, they were suddenly on par with a sharp knife.

"It's people like you that make everything so hard," she spat the words out like acid, her eyes dark and her features furious, "people like me try all their lives to escape from their past, yet people like you make it your job to make that impossible! It must be easy when everything is handed down to you, so easy you make it your hobby to step on everyone else to make sure no one can reach your sphere in life!"

She finished her speech with her face flushed and her chest heaving slightly. My face remained an empty slate although I did have a strange, tight feeling in my gut. A small voice in my head urged me to apologise but I tried to crush it with iron stubbornness. A bloated silence tangoed between us and as it meandered about, the distance between us grew.

"Look China, I'm..." The apology was at the tip of my tongue, fighting against my pride to be let out and vocalised. I was trying so hard to rationalise with myself. _I am doing this for the mission, I need her cooperation and I need to apologise to get back on her good side._ The bell rang before I could get the most important part out. Steeling myself to resume my 'apology' at the end of the shrill ringing, she beat me to it with words of her own.

"...an asshole? Yeah I figured already." She spun on her heels and walked off, leaving me still and stranded in a sea of students pouring back into the school building, a dull undercurrent of irritation humming through my body.

_Someone_ ought to award that girl a prize for being able to successfully get under my skin in such a record time.

* * *

I spent the rest of the afternoon spacing out in calculus and _actually_ spending time trying to decode what she meant by her words. _Maybe she had issues with authority before?_ It was hard to say. All I knew was I would have to expend precious reserves of energy if I was to understand anything.

In all honesty, the general idea lacked much appeal, but somehow, I felt like I owed her some form of apology and the least I could do was investigate. Faking smiles at random strangers that greeted me as I opened the door to the home economics room for my last class, my eyes locked with a certain vermilion haired adolescent. She turned away as soon as she realised who I was and made a grand show of avoiding eye contact even as I marched up to her table to put my books down, much to the surprise of her spectacled follower.

I stood there casually and waited. After about a minute of hushed whispers and gossiping from around the class, the girl finally relented.

"Oi tell your legion of minions to stop gawking at us, our table's not a reality TV show." The petite girl was doing a marvellous job at restraining her temper as she crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently, a dark scowl colouring her face with every shade of aggravation possible. "More importantly, why are you even _on_ this table?"

Hearing her pour all her frustration onto the one poor syllable was enough to place me in a pleasant mood, so I rewarded her with a smile only to watch her frown deepen.

"If I didn't know better China, I'd say you want to avoid me." I answered nonchalantly, ignoring the ring of stares drilling their way into our small workstation.

Glasses boy has yet to recover from the sudden shock of intense scrutiny. In an admirable attempt to avoid all forms of eye contact, he has since engaged in an all-out staring contest with a wooden spoon on the counter. Judging by how his eyes were watering, I would suppose the spoon was winning.

"That doesn't answer my question, of the nine _other_ tables you could be on, why are you _here _of all places? Did this suddenly become the table for assholes?" she continued her questioning, thinly veiling the contempt she housed towards me at the moment.

Looking around curiously at the alternating looks of silent envy and star struck adoration, I decided to humour myself. "The board says we need to be in groups of four China, since there's one person missing, we'll have to be a group of 3. Do you really want to avoid me that bad?"

"Well yeah, it's taking a lot of restraint to not try and disembowel you with these cooking utensils. It might be easier if I don't have to look at you at all," she mumbled darkly as class started.

"Nice self control." I gave her a slight nod of approval as she decided to completely ignore me to jot down the recipe our plump teacher was putting up on the whiteboard.

As the cooking started, it soon became apparent that China's culinary techniques were inversely proportional to her physical prowess and martial abilities. I watched with interest whilst whisking eggs as she fidgeted around the tomatoes with a sharp knife in hand, sporting an expression quite similar to what I imagined a cartoon penguin would look like if it had suddenly found itself in a desert.

Today's recipe was nothing short of elementary - spaghetti and meatballs. Somehow I could not help but think the teacher had chosen it on purpose based on the whole exchange student hype I had caused. Everyone was buzzing with excitement over what would be a completely ordinary, Italian themed meal in America. The glasses boy, whose name I had learnt to be Shinpachi was busy preparing the mince with great concentration to make meatballs.

Turning my attention back to the girl whose eyebrows were knotted together as if she was faced with the hardest conundrum in her life, I could not help but feel a mixture of mortification and hilarity as she started stabbing at the tomato.

"This is why I only eat rice topped with egg... what is this 'dicing' bullshit?" she cursed quietly as she proceeded to butchering the poor vegetable, or one was to be immensely pedantic, fruit.

"China, it's not even Halloween yet, save the carving for pumpkins. If you keep jabbing at it like that you're going to slice your hand open." I cautioned out of decorum as opposed to care.

She transferred her murderous gaze from the tomato to me, efficiently suggesting that if I so much as make another comment, that knife could very well be protruding from my own abdomen.

"Shut u- ow..." She winced. A deeper shade of red bled into the pulpy messy of tomato guts smeared all over her left hand, slowly pooling onto the underside of her fingers before dripping onto the tiled floors.

Amidst noise of knife on chopping boards, sizzling saucepans and general chatter, no one had noticed our little mishap. I stopped my whisking and watched warily as the girl pursed her lips and held up her hand still dripping with a vampire's favourite cocktail of blood and tomato juice. My mind was seesawing between the decision to offer her a complimentary "I told you so" or not, but the sharp knife still wet and glistening held in her right hand made me reconsider wisely.

The seconds lengthened as I watched her study her hand with morbid curiosity, completely ignoring the gathering puddle of crimson on the floor. Gently I set the bowl of whisked eggs down, unsure whether I was equally mystified by the girl as she was by her blood or just stupefied by her own willingness to slowly bleed to death. Seriously, three days into this stupid mission and someone was already spilling blood everywhere. Yamazaki was so full of shit.

Being a person not lacking in moral principles, I felt compelled to at least offer some form of aid before the petulant creature before me passed out. Fighting back a sigh, I closed the distance between us and plucked the knife from her right hand while she was still engrossed in her vampiric fascinations to ensure the said utensil would not end up gutting me at a later point in time. Easing my hand around her left wrist, I pulled her to the sink gently.

Rinsing away the mush of tomato and blood with cold water, I soon noticed the two centimetre long gash running from the top of her palm all the way into the webbing between her ring and middle finger. The wound did not show any desire to close without medical attention.

"It fucking hurts." I heard her mutter from behind me as I carefully fished out a stubborn seed that was in the process of applying for permanent residence in her wound.

"That tends to happen if you try to play fruit ninja with your hand and a real knife." I rolled my eyes at her, noting the flinty look she shot me.

For the sake of general etiquette, I extracted a clean handkerchief from my pocket and hastily wrapped the fabric around her hand so it will soak up the blood before she turned our cooking area into a homicide crime scene. As I looked up from finishing my shockingly bad bandaging, I realised half the class had stopped working and was focused on us.

"I'm going to go the nurse's office," the girl murmured and took an unsteady step forward.

"I'll –" Shinpachi started as he hastily tried to wipe his meat covered hands on his apron.

"No, I'll go with her. If you touch her with all that raw meat on your hands the wound might get infected," I cut him off pragmatically and caught her right elbow and arm before she could stumble.

Sliding open the door and pulling us both into the hall, the last thing I saw was a bunch of girls looking contemplatively at their knives and their hands while Shinpachi slipped on a worried frown. Shutting the door behind me, I was not surprised when the girl pulled her arm back roughly and stopped to lean against the wall. Her gash free hand reached to pinch the bridge of her nose shakily.

"I can walk myself," she said grouchily and pushed herself off the wall.

"Probably." I shrugged in agreement but followed next to her unsteady steps anyway. "I just feel like wagging the rest of the period."

She regarded me with a nicely arched brow and a lethal dose of disdain. "Seriously, _how_ does someone like you even become a policeman?"

"I have great moral principles."

"It's almost scary how you can misuse those words so easily," she said despairingly.

"Please China, you are hurting the fragile feelings of a loyal civil servant here." I feigned a certain degree of hurt in my voice but my face was completely neutral.

"Feelings are for people with hearts, not calcified tumours in their chest cavity."

"Careful with the big words here, I might start believing you actually know what they mean."

Pulling open the door to the nurse's office noisily, I concluded our little conversation and notified the nurse of our accident. The woman in her late thirties got up instantly and ushered the girl to a chair. Kneeling down in front of her to inspect the wound, she concluded no stitches were necessary and busied herself with gathering liquid bandaid and gauze to dress the wound.

"You can head back to class, I'll take care of her." The nurse turned around to address me.

"Actually," I said slowly as a crafty fabrication entered my mind, "she's anaemic. I just want to make sure she doesn't pass out."

"Oh? ...That's really nice of you," she replied with a hint of uncertainty.

"Don't worry, I'm only missing out on our food from home economics," I assured her quickly and smiled inwardly as I watched her features soften.

"Alright, just this time then."

As she turned her attention back to Kagura's wounded hand, the girl frowned disapprovingly at me over the nurse's head as if she had just witnessed a scandal but withheld her comments until the nurse finished her bandaging and left to dispose of the biologically hazardous hanky.

"You are unbelievable," she said with incredulity once we found ourselves seated in a corner of the empty nurse's office.

"I know China, sometimes I surprise even myself."

"I don't have anaemia."

"I know that too."

"You just used me to get out of class," she accused.

"More or less, and don't try to punch me that hand hand, it'll hurt you more than it hurts me." She pursed her lips and retracted her bandaged hand.

We sat there motionless in silence, my eyes were fixed on her bandaged hand, vaguely noting the gauze been wrapped around her ring and middle finger to restrict movement and to aid with healing.

"Stop staring, you're being creepy." She edged slightly further away from me and retracted her legs from the floor to sit cross-legged on the starchy white sheets of a bed.

I did not respond as my mind was still in thought. She lacked all general delicacy of a young woman in her final year of high school, being subtle would probably be just as ineffective as being direct. I might even save myself the confusion of explaining my subtleness to her if I just took the bull its horns and hoped she was honest with me.

"China tell me the truth, are you working for a gang?" I asked in the simplest way I possibly could, counting a total of six seconds before she finally offered me her reply.

"...Huh?" She almost fell off the bed in her haste to get away from me.

"Relax. I'm not there to arrest you."

"Sure you're not."

"Do I look like I have handcuffs on me?"

"Still..."

"I'll take that as a yes then." I surmised.

"Assumption has an ass in it you know?"

I rubbed my eyes in frustration at her intentionally uncooperative attitude.

"Consider your own position for a second would you?" I asked drawing on a deep storage of patience I never knew I had as I looked at her seriously. "Do you really think you can keep running and fighting whatever it is with that hand of yours?"

Part of me knew that I was offending her pride in some abstract way when the mulish expression crossed her face and her mouth quirked up in a defiant frown.

"I don't need your help."

"I'm not trying to help you. I'm trying to help _myself._" I stressed that word hoping she would get over her pride, already hating myself for even trying to be uncharacteristically considerate. "I don't want to stay in this godforsaken place any longer than I have to."

"Then you are even more of a selfish asshole than I thought you were."

"I don't particularly care what you think of me, I just need-"

"It's always about you," she interrupted, "it's all about what benefits you'll reap from something isn't it? That's why I wonder why you're a policeman. How can you help anyone when you only care about helping yourself? Everyone here is just a slab of pavement to you as you climb towards some stupid pinnacle."

The shrill ringing of last bell punctured into our conversation. The girl took it was a fitting end to our discussion, without so much as another word, she got off the bed on the opposite side to where I was sitting and left in silence, leaving me simmering in what would appear as one of the few, rare wakeup calls in my life. She might be half right.

For as long as I remembered, I avoided emotions because the weight of emotional care was a heavy responsibility I would only ever willingly accept for a few people. Truly caring about few people meant I have the power of control over others. _I_ will be doing the teasing, _I_ will be doing the interrogating, _I_ will be doing the blackmailing and _I_ will be doing the rejecting, never the other way around. This was why China's words burned with such intensity, it surprised even me.

The feeling had bubbled up from the pit of my stomach, and burst in my chest cavity, filling it with a nasty sensation. My heart was pumping venom and it crept into every crevice of my being, causing muscles to constrict and my jaws to clench. My thoughts were saturated with a dark and violent tint of red while my pride burned with the aftertaste of indignity. _How dare she even attempt to sound like she understood me?_

Suddenly, I had a personal vendetta against everything in the sickbay. My body was wrought with tension as I fought to stay still. My palms aching as my fingernails dug agonisingly into the soft flesh. Pain was the only thing chaining me from decimating objects at random.

If it had been some other situation and some other girl, I would have deemed the state of affairs as pointless and moved on with my life. Sadly, my unrelenting frustration had decided to take up permanent residence in my head instead, and with every thought of the girl, my mind was set ablaze with irritation and an unsightly desire for vengeance. She saw through all the glamour and looked straight at the semi-rotten core that was my heart. It was endearing in a very twisted way.

I left the nurse's office with a placid face but an army of demons hosting a pool party inside my head. Not wishing to get caught up in the hubbub of after school social obligations, I headed for the roof for some fresh air and space. Climbing to the apex of the school building, I sprawled onto the smooth concrete, warmed by the afternoon sun sitting in the clear blue sky and closed my eyes. I must have gotten too comfortable and fell asleep in the process because when I opened my eyes again, the sky was deep shade of orange.

Although the air was starting to grow cool with the setting sun, the chill was not the reason I woke up. Sharp, angry voices were arguing away heatedly from somewhere beneath my napping spot. Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes and stretched. _Does this school ever run out of drama? _

"-until your hand heals." The last snippet of the conversation floated up to me.

"I don-"

Seeing as the sentence was never finished, I carefully edged over the side of the platform to satisfy my curiosity. Observing the scene before me, my eyebrows responded by racing for my hairline. Glasses boy had cut off China girl's sentence by fiercely embracing her. The girl was so shocked she had dropped her umbrella. I felt like I had just walked into my friend's parents doing the fornication dance.

"Trust me! I will protect you," he said with resolve.

Unable to tear my eyes away, I could not help but notice with interest that China did not return his embrace. Her hands remained by her sides while she stood there with an unreadable expression on her face, neither denying or acknowledging Shinpachi's emotional outburst.

"Come home with me today." He took her silence as acceptance and clasped his hand around her thin wrist before pulling her through the door for the stairs, completely forgetting her parasol.

Having an odd uneasy feeling about the whole ordeal, I got off from my perch and picked up the umbrella. Smiling ruefully to myself and assuring my troubled soul that I was only doing this for the sake of my assignment, I pushed opened the door myself and pursued them silently. I had already been called an eavesdropper and accidentally became a voyeur, I might as well become a stalker and complete the whole set. If worst comes to worst, I could always claim I was returning her umbrella to her.

* * *

**A/N - **Yeah I know there's no fluff yet, but I want to have a solid foundation for them interacting with each other since I'm writing an AU... which sadly means I have to throw out all their existing bonds and knowledge of each other from the anime. Or maybe I'm just trying to make it challenging for myself. But yes I am writing an OkiKagu, a slow one but it'll get there eventually ~ have faith good people.

I know most people like jumping straight into the fluff to get the feels, but bear with it. I'll get to the feels soon. I just find feels a bit empty without background.

The other thing I want address is my Kagura, I deliberately left out the -aru's and -uh huh equivalents because I have doubts that she'll talk like that realistically when she's 18, so if you really like the accenting, I'll have to ask you to imagine it in your head.

Thank you for all the wonderful people that reviewed, faved, followed. You are great motivators and I thank you all kindly! :) I hope you all continue to support me~!

- Ori

P.S I'm honestly trash at proofreading, if you find anything, PM me? ^^


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